


Never, Never Giving You Up

by acaelousqueadcentrum



Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/F, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:21:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4141029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acaelousqueadcentrum/pseuds/acaelousqueadcentrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-San Francisco. </p><p>Holly. And Gail. And a baby on the way. </p><p>Or, when you're ready to be a mom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_How long do you want to be loved_  
_Is forever enough, is forever enough_  
 _How long do you want to be loved_  
 _Is forever enough_  
 _Cause I’m never, never giving you up_

* * *

“Breathe, in-in-out, nice and steady, just like we practiced,” Gail encouraged from the stool where she sat next to a laboring Holly, her voice strained as the other woman squeezed her hand through another contraction. “Okay, okay, it’s almost over, keep breathing.”

And then the tight grip on her hand eased as the woman in the hospital bed let out a slow, focused breath, and fell back against the pillows.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Hols,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss the brunette’s sweaty forehead before reaching for the cup of ice chips on the nearby table. “Just a little longer and then it’ll be all over.”

Holly swallowed down the little bit of water from the melted ice and let out an incredulous laugh, “Over, Peck? It’s just beginning. Crying and diapers and permission slips? What was I thinking–I must have been crazy.”

Gail looked at her. The brunette was exhausted, eyes closed as if keeping them open was too much at the moment. And her face was pained, she’d begun to worry her lower lip with her teeth, as if to distract against the constant ache of labor, the ever-quickening pace between contractions and rest.

She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman Gail had ever seen.

“Yeah, but there’s some good stuff in there too, Lunchbox. Like first words and little hugs and hand-drawn cards for the holidays and school pictures on the wall.” Gail waited until Holly opened her eyes before bringing the other woman’s hand up to her mouth to leave a gentle kiss on her palm.

Holly’s eyes were wet with tears and with frustration, but past that, deeper, Gail could see love, could see Holly’s whole heart.

“And you,” the brunette said as she lifted her hand further, hospital bracelet brushing against Gail’s pale skin, to cup the blonde’s cheek.

“And me,” Gail answered, her breath hitching in time with the beat her heart skipped, “always.”

~

_It started a year or two before Holly turned forty._

_Her professional life was perfect. Her time in San Francisco had been well-spent–gaining more experience in her field, building her resume, creating a network of contacts in the rather small world of forensic pathology.  Three years in and she was offered a prestigious position with the RCMP’s Forensic Science and Identification Services, Chief Forensic Investigator of the Ontario province. It was an important job, and Holly loved it._

_But._

_But there was something missing._

_An empty space that couldn’t be filled._

_It’s not like she didn’t try._

_First she tried hobbies, activities, new friends. But knitting didn’t help. Nor did biking. Or book club. Or yoga. Or anything else she tried. She made friends and she learned how to cook a damn good lasagna and she finally–_ finally _–finished_ Middlemarch _._

_But the hole inside her didn’t go away._

_She tried dating, said yes to set-ups from her new friends and co-workers, went to lunch with her cousin’s best friend’s roommate’s ex-girlfriend, even tried an online dating site.  And though she met some pretty wonderful women, had some pretty great sex, even embarked on a relationship or two, no one fit. Nothing lasted._

_Or, more accurately, no one lived up to the last person to hold Holly’s heart._

_When Leah, her office assistant, brought in her newborn daughter, Holly thought she figured it out. Holding that sleeping baby in her arms, pressing a soft kiss to that sweet-smelling head, tickling those teeny-tiny baby toes, she felt the hole inside her shift and squirm and shrink._

_Just a little bit._

_  
And in that moment, watching little Margo scrunch her perfect nose up in a yawn, Holly felt almost, almost whole._

_Maybe it was enough._

~

“Peck, my petulant protégé,” Oliver called from across the squad room, “I request the particular pleasure of your presence after parade.”

Gail rolled her eyes, but held back and followed her boss to his office after everyone was dismissed, flopping into one of the two chairs there and propping her feet up on his desk, ignoring the way he swatted at her boots as he walked past.

“S’up, Ollie,” she asked nonchalantly, “another group of rookies coming in?”

Oliver shook his head as he sat, “Not exactly.”  He reached into his desk drawer where he kept the secret stash of chocolate that Celery pretended not to know about and he pretended not to know that Celery pretended not to know, tossing a Reese’s to Gail before unwrapping one for himself.

“We’ve been asked to hand over some old files regarding a case that the RCMP is reviewing and I’ve selected you to be our cheerful and helpful representative. It’s just a matter of driving a couple of boxes over to their office in Ottawa and back,” he reported with feigned cheer.

Gail scoffed at him. “That’s grunt work, Oliver. Isn’t there anyone else who can do it?”

She slouched a little bit in her seat, and Oliver smiled to himself. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her, all sullen adolescence, slouched in the backseat of his squad. Hair dyed dark black to contrast sharply with her pale, pale skin, with heavy makeup and dark nails to emphasize the stark difference all the more.  Silent and fuming at him for having the audacity to pick her up for drinking underage.

She’d grown so much since then, his Peck. Settled into herself, into her sharp eyes and her quick tongue, into the place between who she wanted to be and who she was expected to become. She’d struggled and she’d lost and she’d come back, every day, even when it’d seemed unthinkable, when putting on the uniform felt like the hardest thing she’d ever done.  Gail’d fought and she’d overcome, and she’d earned every accolade, every honor that came her way.  And when she turned down a promotion to detective, after acing the test, and decided to focus on being a T.O., he couldn’t have been more proud than if she was his own daughter.

He loved all of his officers, of course, but Gail was his favorite.

“I could, Little Peck, but then someone else would get to spend four hours driving with sole control of the radio. And the chance to stay overnight in a fancy motel before driving back.  Not to mention the generous per diem that our friends in red offered to pick up in exchange…” he hinted.

When he threw her another piece of candy, she caught it with a smile.

~

_“I’m ready to be a mom, Holly,” Gail’d said, “I’m trying to adopt a little girl and give her a life. And you’re … you’re not. You don’t want that life, you’ve been clear about that from the start.”_

_Her ex-girlfriend had looked at her, eyes honest and clear. Not hiding her sadness, her grief at finding themselves at this fork in the road.  It was just tempered with understanding.  With acceptance._

_With love._

_And that’s when Holly’d known, that’s when she realized she’d always known what Gail’s answer would be._

_“Gail–,” she’d started softly, but the blonde had reached out for her hand to stop her._

_“You should go, Holly. It’s your dream. It’s always been your dream. But I can’t go with you.”  Gail’d pulled her closer, so close Holly could feel the memory of spark and flame on her skin, “I’m finally figuring out what my dream is, and it’s not that.”_

_Her voice was steady and strong and so achingly, painfully true.  The kind of truth that cut like a knife, slipped under Holly’s skin and skimmed her bones, until it found it’s home._

_Her heart._

_“I know,” she’d answered, nodding her head as the tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. And she had._

_She had then and she did now. Still._

_But knowing hadn’t made understanding any easier, hadn’t eased the pain in her chest or the loss she felt as she filled the empty spaces in her new life where she’d wanted Gail to be._

_“Go,” Gail’d said, and she had. She’d packed up her life and her heart and started over. Or maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe it was archaeological, or like trace at a scene. She built over it. On top of it. Covered it up with new places and new people and new chances._

_It wasn’t gone. It hadn’t disappeared, her love, her feelings, her memories of Gail. There were faultlines, there were holes, there was the every-day ebb and flow of the tide that stirred the waters of her heart, flooding and then receding, leaving behind bits of pieces of the life she’d left behind exposed on the shore._

_“Go,” Gail’d said, “go and be amazing.” And Holly’d listened. To the words. To the gentle unspoken thrum in Gail’s voice that hummed in the air between them._

_A promise._

_A plea._

_An “I’ll love you for always.”_

_A “Goodbye and farewell.”_

_“Go,” Gail’d said, and Holly knew it was the right thing to do._

_Because maybe they weren’t meant to be together, and maybe that was okay. She’d been in Gail’s life for a moment, a single season, but it had been enough. She’d loved–truly loved–and she’d been loved in return. And it hadn’t been easy or simple or smooth._

_But it had been worth it._

_She was the better for it. They both were._

_“Go,” Gail’d said, and then she was gone._


	2. Chapter 2

“Look, Jim-Bob, I don’t know if that ridiculous hat impedes your brain function or what, but I’m supposed to leave these files with the FSIS.  Not some cowboy in an ill-fitting pair of pants.” **  
**

“Ma’am, I can’t let you through without authorization.  And I told you, I can’t call the Chief, she’s out of the building.”

~

_At first, Holly thought she was hearing things. That her brain had conjured up the memory of Gail’s voice in a moment of low-blood sugar induced hallucination, like Scrooge and his undigested bite of beef. It wouldn’t have been the first time her mind played tricks on her, filled in the empty spaces in her life with visions of the woman she still woke up reaching for in the morning._

_Had done since the last time she saw the police officer, walking out her door._

_In more recent days and weeks, her dreams of Gail had taken on a different hue. Lately, when Holly woke from a dream of the blonde, she wasn’t reaching over to pull the other woman into her arms, to snuggle close against the chill of morning._

_No, lately she woke drawing her sodden fingertips through her folds, circling her clit, with hips thrusting shallowly into her own hand as visions of pale skin, of Gail’s deft and skilled fingers, the taste of those sweet, full lips and the look in the blonde’s eyes when she knew Holly was on the edge of orgasm._

_It was as exquisite as it was frustrating, the memories as beautiful as they were tinged with regret._

_She wasn’t entirely surprised by the idea that they might have begun to slip out of her night-thoughts and into the waking hours. That her fantasy-Gail might have begun to follow her through her day._

_But when Holly rounded the corner, afternoon tea in hand, there, at the visitor’s station, was Gail._

_In the flesh._

_She stopped for a second, just to look, just to drink the sight of the other woman in._

_The blonde looked good._

_But that was no surprise. She’d always looked good. Even at her worst, Gail was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that was passed down through the centuries, as artists struggled to capture the divine made flesh._

_“It’s okay, Saul,” Holly said, stepping forward into the foyer, “this is Officer Peck, from Toronto. You can let her through.”_

_She wasn’t sure what was more impressive, that she’d managed to keep the note of longing out of her voice when she said Gail’s name, or that Saul managed to grab the boxes before they hit the floor as Gail whirled in surprise._

~

The call came while she was at work and, Gail figured, wasn’t that just the crux of it all.  

There was a family, out in the suburbs. A nephew’s ex-sister-in-law, or something ridiculous like that. They had a girl Sophie’s age and a son who they expected to start walking any day now. And a big old retriever named Mutant.

There was a big backyard, a good school just a few blocks away, and they were already at the hardware store getting supplies to turn their office into Sophie’s new room.

He was a firefighter. She taught high school phys ed and coached peewee soccer on the weekends. In the summers they cooked out on their deck and camped out in the backyard on nights when he didn’t work.

It was perfect. It was everything that Gail wasn’t. Everything she wanted to give to Sophie but couldn’t. Not now. Not yet. Not without a lot of time and hard work.

If Chloe knew something was wrong, that Gail’s dreams had just been dashed, she didn’t let on. Instead she chattered on about things the other officer didn’t care about in the least, but the constant noise, the persistent annoying hum was almost soothing. White noise. Static to block out the disappointment, the grief.

Gail kept it together until the locker room. Until the last of her shift had slipped out the door and she was alone.

It was the locker that took the brunt of her anger, her sadness. She hit it over and over, blinded by the tears in her eyes, until a strong pair of arms wrapped her up from behind and pulled her down to the floor.

Oliver.

Gail poured her heart out to him, everything she’d kept bottled up for the past twelve months. Her excitement and joy at trying to adopt Sophie, how much she loved the little girl, what she’d given up to pursue the adoption–Holly, an undercover assignment, the person she used to be.  And through it all, Oliver just held her, kept her from doing any more damage. To herself. To the locker.

And then he’d fixed up her knuckles, and bought her a drink, and given her the rest of the week off.  Told her to head up to his cabin, to spend some time thinking about what she wanted, who she wanted, where to go from here.

It had helped, the time away. The silence.

By the time she came back to work, her hands were almost healed.

Her heart took a little longer.

But it did.

~

_Despite all her OB-GYN’s warnings and cautions not to get her hopes up, Holly got pregnant on the first try. Two weeks after the implantation, as she held her breath, Holly paced back and forth in her master bathroom waiting for the timer on her phone to go off._

_It was positive._

_She looked again, just to make sure she hadn’t imagined the pink “yes” that had appeared on the small plastic stick._

_It was still there._

_Ever the scientist, she had the doctor confirm it with a blood test, and when that, too, came back positive, she finally allowed herself to believe._

_She was pregnant._

_She was going to have a baby._

_She was going to be a mother._

_It lasted for nine weeks. Just enough time for her to wrap her head around the idea, to start thinking of how to tell her parents, her sisters, her friends, and her colleagues.  Just enough to get used to feeling it, being pregnant: the aching, swollen breasts; the sore back; the exhaustion.  The morning sickness. The feeling of being just the slightest bit out of control._

_The sparks of love and the seeds of dreams._

_And then one morning, she woke with a terrible pain in her belly, and blood on her thighs._

_It was over._

_Before it really ever started._

_Story of her life._

~

“So,” Gail whistled, “you haven’t changed.”

Holly looked down at the proud roundness of her belly and laughed.

“No,” she answered with a smile, “I mean, I did cut my hair.”

The blonde stood before her, eyes sweeping down, then up again. Taking in every detail with that cop’s gaze.

Holly’s hair was shorter, it was true. Cut in a cute bob that just brushed her shoulders.   But otherwise, aside from the obvious, Holly was the same.  Soft brown eyes, gentle knowing smile.

Still.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Gail offered, with a smile that was mostly sincere, mostly honest, watching as her ex-girlfriend massaged her back absentmindedly before sitting down in the chair on the other side of the desk.

Holly gave her a sweet smile, one that reached all the way to the corners of her eyes. “Thanks,” she said softly.

They were silent for a moment, Gail looking anywhere but Holly. Holly looking nowhere but Gail.

Until the silence became too much, until they couldn’t stand it anymore, and they both opened their mouths to speak at once.  
  


“Thanks for bringing those files up–”

“I should check into that motel Oliver set me up in–”

They chuckled, acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation.

“Really, Gail, thank you,” Holly repeated, her voice warm and thoughtful, “when we called to get those missing person files, I didn’t think Oliver would send you. But I’m so glad that he did.”

Gail tilted her head to the side, processing what the brunette had just said.

“Oliver knew?” she asked, “You talked to Ollie?”  

But Holly shook her head. “No,” she answered, “one of the lab assistants in Forensic Identification made the call. But I saw his name when I signed off on the request. Don’t worry, it wasn’t a set-up, Gail. Just a happy accident.”

Gail sat for a moment, nodding. Taking everything in.

Outside Holly’s large office, a phone rang, pulling the blonde back into the present. She rose from her seat in a fog, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions swirling through her veins. Sadness. Regret. Anger. But also gratitude and hope. And most of all, love.

“It was good to see you, Holly,” she said and extended her hand, “and I’m proud of you. Chief of your own division, starting a family. I’m really happy for you.”

She was almost out the door before Holly called out after her.

“Gail,” Holly, “wait.”

The doctor got up out of her chair slowly, pausing to write something down before she moved toward the blonde frozen in her doorway.

“I know you’re only here for the night, Gail,” Holly asked tentatively, “but I’d really like to talk to you–to really talk. If you’re up for it.”  She handed the police officer a card, and lay her warm hand over Gail’s as the blonde reached out to take it. But the contact wasn’t enough, not enough to satisfy the want in Holly’s limbs, and so instead of releasing Gail’s hand and letting the other woman go, the doctor stepped closer, pulling the other woman into a loose hug.

“It really is good to see you, Gail,” Holly echoed, the blonde’s familiar scent filling her lungs, and laughed when she felt a series of sharp kicks she knew the officer must have felt as well. “Sorry,” she apologized when Gail didn’t say anything, “she’s pretty active in the afternoons.”

Gail just stared as Holly stepped back, silent and with a look that was indecipherable to the brunette who once upon a time knew her so well.

And then, without a word, she turned.

And left.


	3. Chapter 3

She never expected to find Gail on her doorstep.

“Hey,” Holly said, pulling open the door, “this is a surprise.”

To be honest, she never expected to hear from Gail again after their parting earlier that afternoon, after the hug that felt like coming home again and the insistent reminder from the baby she was carrying that this–that Gail–wasn’t her home, hadn’t been in a long, long time.

Gail stood in the small entryway, looking around tentatively, her cop’s eyes taking everything in but her face, blank.

Or maybe not blank.

Confused. Uncertain. Like she wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up here, in this place. At Holly’s door.

“I probably should have called,” Gail spoke, and there’s an edge to her voice, more so than earlier. Like she was no longer caught off-guard, but had had hours to think, to wonder and weigh. Hours to let the surprise of seeing an ex-girlfriend turn into something else.

Anger, maybe. Regret. Perhaps any of a thousand other things, and seeing her, lost in her hallway, Holly felt the strongest need to explain, to sit down and tell Gail the whole story.

Everything.

“No,” Holly answered, moving into the house toward the kitchen, not bothering to look back and check that the blonde was following, “it’s okay. I was just about to have dinner–I’ll make you a plate.”

She didn’t bother to ask how Gail found her address either. She’s worked in law enforcement her entire professional career–Holly’s well aware of the favors that get called in for a brother-in-arms. All Gail would have had to do is call someone up back in Toronto, and within minutes, she’d have any information she desired. The brunette has always admired that, the loyalty that law enforcement officers have for one another. Even when it’s proven to be annoying.

If she were going to be honest with herself, the doctor would have to admit that yes, having Gail call first would have been nice. If only so she’d have a few minutes to settle herself, to prepare to welcome the blonde into her home.

But that was never how she and Gail worked, always stumbling into each other’s lives. No thought for grace, for the moment.

No reason it should change now.

~

_“There, there,” Holly gasped, fighting the urge to buck up into Gail’s mouth, struggling to keep her hips still, settled atop the mess of sheets beneath her._

_Gail–god, Gail–had always been good with directions in bed. Always eager to bring Holly to the heights of pleasure, to test the limits of how far they could go together, how much they could take. The blonde snorted and her nose brushed just the slightest along the side of Holly’s clit._

_“Unnnghgh,” the brunette cried out, feeling the blinding white heat of impending orgasm gather behind her eyes, in the tips of her fingers, the coiled and tensed muscles of her legs. Gail thrust faster, harder, right into the spot that always drove Holly wild._

_And when she curled her fingers, when she thrust two times, three times, hard and deliberate, raking the pads of her fingers over the sweet spot hidden deep inside the brunette as she withdrew, Holly arched off the mattress, sweat beading on her forehead, fingers clutching desperately at the bed as she came, as her hot sex hugged Gail’s fingers, held them tight within her as she shook and trembled and struggled to breathe._

_“Fuck,” the doctor sighed, aftershocks flowing pleasantly through her body with every lick and lap of Gail’s tongue against her entrance, dipping just inside to chase down every last salty-sweet drop of Holly’s release._

_If she didn’t look, if she kept her eyes closed, Holly thought to herself, it was almost like they’d never been apart, never broken up and put two entire countries between them._

_But it wasn’t. It wasn’t the same. Not if she kept her eyes closed and not if she opened them either._

_There was a different bedroom, the ache of several more years in her joints._

_There was Gail, more confident with her body, with Holly’s, and thoughts about who Gail might have been with since that Holly didn’t dare address, could barely handle thinking._

_And then there was her belly. Big enough now that she couldn’t see Gail between her legs, couldn’t watch as the blonde licked her lips, kissed at her thigh._

_It was a happy moment, truly. A moment of remembering, of rediscovering._

_But there was still so much unknown, so much yet undiscussed._

_She loved her, Holly knew, she loved Gail with her whole heart. And she was growing more and more certain every time the blonde returned, every time Gail showed up at her door, or called to say goodnight, or sent a ridiculous picture of something stupid her rookie just pulled and added a wink and a kiss, that the police officer felt the same._

_But there they were, in bed. As naked in body as they were in soul. And still, always, a baby between them._

~

“So, what did they tell you,” Holly asked, attempting to break the awkward silence of the dinner. They’d been sitting and eating without words for almost twenty minutes. Gail kept looking up, opening her mouth like she wanted to say something, ask something, but closing it before any sound could come out. If someone was going to make a move, if someone was going to start, it was going to have to be Holly.

“What,” Gail said, looking up from her plate again as she stabbed at another piece of her lasagna.

But Holly waited until the blonde met her eyes before answering.

“When you had someone at the Fifteen look up my address for you, did you find out everything you needed to know? Or do you want to ask me anything? About my life? My job? The fact that I’m seven months pregnant?”

That did it. That sparked the fire in Gail’s cool blue eyes.

“Holly Louise Stewart,” she recited, “forty-two. Born and raised in Vancouver, dual-citizenship from your American father. Undergrad at UBC, medical school at UCLA. Top of your class, impressive.” She put down her fork, let it clatter onto the plate below.

“Started your career in San Francisco, moved quickly up the ranks with a series of high-profile cases and publications, ended up in Toronto after a quite literal bidding war between the city and San Francisco. The San Francisco lab wouldn’t meet your salary demand, so you accepted Toronto even though it was your second choice.”

She must’ve had someone send her the whole file, Holly realized. Not just her address, not just the past few years. Holly’s whole life.

Gail was angry. Gail was hurt.

Gail was trying to figure her out, piece her together like a case.

But the answer wasn’t in the file, not the answer Gail needed. Not the answer Gail came looking for.

It wasn’t in reports and resumes and salary histories.

It was with Holly, and Holly alone.

“Stayed for a few years in Toronto,” Gail continued, and now there’s a bitter tone to her voice, but the brunette can hear through it, hear the pain underneath, “long enough that it seemed like you might be ready to stay, to really stay instead of bouncing to the next job, the next big opportunity. Probably dated a bit, nothing too serious, couldn’t get tied down–”

“Gail,” Holly tried to interrupt, but with no luck.

“–because you knew that San Francisco would come calling again, you knew they’d see how much you were worth eventually. And when they did, that was it. You moved on.”

The hardest part of hearing Gail’s dialogue was that it was true. Most of it. The details if not always the motivations. She left some facts out, but none that really could have made a difference, told a different story. Not really.

“Kicked around San Francisco for a little while, and then, when the Mounties came calling, packed up and left again. And now you’re here. Single, or at least without a legally recognized domestic partner, pregnant.  Another job, another house, another city.  For how long this time, Holly? Going to wait until the kid is born before you pack up and leave again?”

Gail seemed almost shocked by the words, as if she didn’t know they were coming until it was too late, until they were already out. Like she’d surprised herself as much as she’d surprised Holly.

Holly, who knew the darker sides of Gail, the way the blonde’s responses to anger and fear and hurt were always retributive. To scratch as hard as she’d been scratched. To cut and push and twist the knife until she’d dealt a bigger wound than she’d received.

And maybe a younger Holly would have taken it, would have listened, reasonable and calm, and let Gail write the story she wanted to believe. But not now. Not older, not wiser. And certainly not with the hormones and the frustrations of pregnancy weighing heavily upon her shoulders, the balls of her feet.

This Holly got angry.

This Holly gave back.

“No,” she said, shaking her head as she pushed her chair back from the table, “you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to accuse me of leaving when you told me to go, Gail. You told me to go.  So you can be angry about a lot of things, but you can’t be angry about that.”

She turned and dropped her dishes unceremoniously into the sink, her mostly uneaten lasagna still clinging to the plate. Behind her, Gail’s chair scraped against the tiled floor.

“You didn’t want kids, Holly. I wanted to start a family and try to adopt Sophie, and you didn’t want that. You didn’t even know if you wanted kids much less right then and right there. What was I supposed to do,” she said, coming up to the counter to stand next to the brunette, “was I supposed to ask you to stay? Was I supposed to ask you to give up your dream and take on mine? Be a mom with me, raise a kid you didn’t even want? Is that what I was supposed to do?”

“Yes,” Holly shouted, “of course you were supposed to ask me to stay. You tell me I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you and then you let me leave? You let me walk away? Who does that? What was I supposed to think?”

The doctor turned to face Gail, surprised to find the blonde right next to her. Close enough to feel Gail’s breath on her cheek, the warmth of her body. Close enough to be a painful reminder of just how at home she’d always felt in the other woman’s arms.

She breathed out painfully, the truth sour on her tongue.

“No,” Holly said, “no, you weren’t supposed to ask me to stay. What would that have done? You don’t talk to me for months and then all of a sudden you come back into my life, telling me I’m the person you want. Telling me you want me and this kid, that you’re ready to be a mom. We’d never talked about the future like that, marriage and kids and growing old together. So no, you did the right thing. You let me go.  You did the thing I couldn’t. Because if you’d asked, I would have. And it never would have worked.”

Gail looked thoughtful, softer, and Holly wondered if she’d got the answer she’d come looking for.

“You asked me to come,” the blonde said quietly, almost an afterthought.

“It wouldn’t have been good. And you knew that, Gail,” Holly answered. “You were always stronger than I was. You knew then that we never would have been able to stay together if you came with me. If you left behind everything you were just to follow me.”

They stood for a moment or two, silent again. But this silence was so unlike the other. Warm, not cold. Thoughtful, not angry. Open, not defensive.

“I didn’t get to adopt Sophie,” Gail whispered into the room, and there’s hurt there, too, but mostly healed over.

Holly took Gail’s hands into her own and squeezed them, trying to offer some comfort to the other woman. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I know how much you love her.”

The blonde nodded, and even though she’s blinking back a tear, Holly recognized the happy smile curling around the corner of those perfect lips.

“I do,” Gail spoke, “and I was sad for a long time. But it’s really for the best. I see her every couple of months, and we FaceTime every other week or so. She’s happy and she’s healthy. Her new parents just had another boy so now there’s four of them, Sophie and Angela, Milo and Todd. For Christmas they dressed the kids up as reindeer–I still have the card on my fridge.”

The brunette’s smile was gentle, and without truly realizing it she began to stroke a hand along Gail’s arm.

“It sounds like things worked out,” Holly said, “and I’m glad. Even if it wasn’t quite in the way you wanted.”

Gail looked down, eyes tethered to the soothing motion of Holly’s hand against her skin, the softness of her palm and the pleasant warmth of her touch.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she said, “I just, I saw you and I thought you’d moved on, that you’d gotten everything I wanted for my own life. And it just–it made me mad.”

She looked back up at Holly, blue eyes searching the brunette’s face, dancing back and forth between Holly’s dark brown eyes and soft lips.

“It made me mad,” Gail repeated, “because it’s what I wanted with you. It’s everything that I’d finally figured out I’d been aching for. But that I’d been too stupid to keep and too late to save.”

She laid a tender hand on Holly’s belly, gave it a fond caress.

“I’m really happy for you, Holly,” she said, and looked up to meet the doctor’s eyes again.

~

_“And then,” Holly heard as she slowly worked her way back into consciousness, “the big bad Prince Steve stole Princess Abigail’s last cookie and ate it, and there were no more cookies in the land for–”_

_Gail stopped as she felt Holly move and stretch beside her._

_“Good morning,” the blonde said quietly, watching Holly’s face._

_“Good morning to you too,” Holly said with a smile, reaching down to tug at Gail’s hair where it lay across her belly, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”_

_The blush spread quickly across Gail’s face, down her bare chest._

_“No, no,” she answered, “just trying to get her to let you sleep a little longer, sometimes I tell her stories while you’re out.”_

_This wasn’t news to Holly. More than once she’d woken, or half-woken, to the sound of Gail talking to her stomach, running soothing hands over her rippling belly._

_“It works, you know,” Holly told her, “she calms down when you talk to her. She knows your voice.”_

_Only a few times in their history has Holly ever been able to leave Gail speechless, even just for a moment._

_A kiss in a coat closet at a wedding._

_The first time she told her she loved her._

_And now, this. This exact moment. The sun filtered in through the gauzy curtains and the sheets strewn across the bed. Gail’s warm hands caressing the round bulge of her belly, and her mouth, the way she bit unconsciously at the corner of her lip._

_“I love you,” Gail said._

_“I know.”_

_Because she did._


	4. Chapter 4

“If I asked,” Holly started, a soft whisper breaking open the darkness, the silence, of the night, “would you stay?”

Gail was quiet. Awake–Holly could feel her pulse still racing at the points where their bodies intersected–but unable, or maybe unwilling, to answer the question.

“Are you asking,” Gail responded eventually, and her voice was carefully measured.

The bed was cooling down, sweat drying on their skin as the ceiling fan slowly beat above them. But the heady scent of lust and sex remained. It would linger all through the night, Holly knew, and when they woke in the morning it would hang over them, heavy in the air, as they blinked open their eyes to the bright rays of sun filtering through the curtains.

“I’m asking what you’d do if I asked,” Holly answered, and it was need that kept her from moving, from rolling over to look into Gail’s eyes. The need to ask, the need to know the answer, the need to hold Gail close and never, never, let her go again.

“I have a flight to catch in the morning,” Gail said after a pause, “and I start the night shift tomorrow.”

It wasn’t an answer, not truly. But Holly didn’t bother to correct her, or push Gail for a real one.

They both knew she hadn’t been asking about a single night.

They both knew what Gail’s answer had to be.

The night stretched on in its dark vigil as they lay awake next to each other. Neither quite willing to give in yet, to fall asleep and concede that their final day had arrived.

“Holly,” Gail whispered, almost too soft for Holly to hear, “ask.”

~

_The pain was indescribable, this great tearing feeling, like she was being pulled apart from the inside out, and every time she thought she had it contained, thought she had taken back control of her body, it came back stronger._

_Everything she knew flew out of her head, until all that was left was the rawest, basest, parts of her self. Her most animal instincts and her most humble impulses. Language left her, but what use had she for words. Hers was a language of grunts and groans, ancient and holy. She spoke with her pain, words long forgotten by those who’d never shared this feeling, this terrible, beautiful sensation._

_A thought flittered across her consciousness, and when she laughed at the absurd wisdom of it, a voice broke through the fog clouding her thoughts, and a feeling of being connected to someone–something–filtered back into her sense of self, until she was back from wherever she’d disappeared to, back from that primitive, primeval place at the center of her pain, and present in the moment once more._

_“Holly, sweetheart,” the voice said again, and a hand held tight to her own._

_Gail._

_Her anchor._

_“One more big push, the doctor says. Come on, Hol,” Gail said encouragingly, “we’re almost there.”_

_Holly could feel the waves building again, threatening to sweep her back under into that place of unknowing. But she fought them this time, squeezing tightly at Gail’s hand and grunting, groaning, roaring through the pain that burned and tore into her._

_Until suddenly, with a shuddering breath, the pressure was no more. The waves receded, growing ever smaller, and her whole body felt light, felt liquid, as she heard Gail’s surprised, joyful laugh, and then, her baby’s first gasping cry._

~

They parted amicably that first night, after the anger and the tears and the apologies and the forgiveness had passed. They parted at the front door with a hug, and then a soft smile from Holly, a shy nod from Gail.

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” Holly joked as Gail stepped back, ready to turn and head back to her hotel for the night, back to her life in the morning.

“You never know,” Gail answered, jingling the keys in her hand, “I mean, it’s only a five hour drive …”

She laughed as she trotted down the steps and to her car, and Holly let herself hope that maybe something had been reconciled, that maybe, at least, they could salvage the friendship they’d had before they’d each gone and ruined it.

That, the doctor tried to convince herself, would be enough.

She was taken aback, just over a month later, when she came home from work to find Gail sitting on her porch, her face a large mess of purple and black, and a small carryon at her feet.

“You can tell me what happened as soon as I pee,” Holly said, and threw open the front door, hurrying down the hallway to the little bathroom just off the kitchen, Gail’s laughter following her into the house.

“Let’s just say I was the other guy,” Gail called after her.

~

_It took four tries, and then two months of crossing her fingers and trying tell herself that nothing would happen this time, but she made it._

_She passed the nerve-wracking first trimester._

_Her doctor had nothing but positive things to say, telling her that all indications pointed to a healthy baby in just over six months._

_Suddenly it became real, what she was doing, the path she’d embarked upon._

_She was going to be a mother._

_It was terrifying and thrilling and when her stomach wasn’t rebelling from the morning sickness it was rolling with nerves or fluttering with excitement._

_The days passed and slowly, but surely, the baby made its presence known._

_And if sometimes she lay in bed and fantasized about her future and her child, and if sometimes a pair of deep blue eyes looked back at her, in the morning she could pretend that it had never happened._

_It was easier on her heart that way._


	5. Chapter 5

_She was waiting for Gail when it happened, when the dull ache at her back–like a word caught on the edges of her memory–sparked into red-hot pain, gripping her whole body in its flickering hold.  
_

_Still, she waited, pacing the hallway slowly as the pangs grew stronger, closer.  Until she could wait no longer._

_“Hey,” Holly said when the blonde picked up the phone, “where are you?”_

_Later, she’ll be proud of the fact that her voice was steady, that it didn’t shake or quaver with the echoes of contractions rippling through her body.  In the moment, though, she can think of nothing beyond her fear, beyond her pain, beyond her need–hard and desperate–for Gail’s comforting presence at her side._

_“Just outside of Perth,” Gail answered, and in the background Holly can hear the steady thrum of traffic on the freeway, “should be there in about an hour and a half, if the traffic’s not too bad once I hit the city.”_

_“Holly,” she asked when the doctor was silent on the other end of the line, “babe, is everything okay?”_

_A whimper escaped as Holly clenched her jaw through a particularly strong contraction._

_“How soon can you get here,” she whispered into the phone, knowing that Gail would hear the scared hitch in her breath._

_“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Hol,” was the other woman’s answer, and Holly heard the tell-tale tick of the blinker._

_“How far apart are the contractions?” Gail asked in a serious voice, “Has your water broken yet?”_

_Holly just shook her head, forgetting, for a moment, that the police officer couldn’t see her._

_“Far enough still, and no,” she said._

_“Okay, just hold on, honey. Everything’s going to be okay.”_

_When Gail said it, Holly believed it._

_She always did._

~

“So, you’re spending a lot of time on the road these days, Peck,” Oliver said as he watched her miss the wastebasket yet again. “Heading up to Ottawa again this weekend?”

She spared him a glance, and then resumed her makeshift game of hoops, refusing to jump at his bait.

“Did my perky little Peck make a friend among our fine friends in red,” he teased, twirling on the chair next to her at the front desk.

Another glare, longer this time, and then a heavy sigh.

“How’d you find out,” she asked.

He grinned at her in a way that was more than a little paternal, and full of gentle mirth. “FSIS sent a copy of their report back to us, just for our files. A certain Dr. Holly Stewart signed off on the findings. Just so happens I used to know a pretty awesome lady with the same name.”

If he objected to her eye-roll, he was smart enough to keep silent about it.

“I take it you and the delightful Dr. Stewart have had a reconciliation of sorts,” he asked, and this time there was no teasing in his voice. Only concern for her wellbeing, for her heart.

Gail looked around at the empty station, devoid of criminals and complainants alike. She could push him away, she knew, make some comment about it not being any of his damned business, and Oliver would listen, would back off.

But at the same time, there was a part of her that wanted to talk about it. Wanted to spill everything that’d been happening in the past few months since he sent her up there on that errand.

No one knew. No one knew anything. Not about Holly, not about Ottawa. Not about where Gail’d been spending her weekends and days off lately. And it was a heavy burden–no, not a burden, but a heavy weight to carry all by herself. Feelings and memories and fears, questions about the future. All pulsing through her blood and keeping her up on the nights when she was struggling to fall asleep in her own bed, alone. The nights when she didn’t have Holly’s warmth, Holly’s steady breathing, Holly’s big belly at her side.

And so, she told him.

She told him everything.

That first night.

The two weeks she spent with Holly while on medical leave, glossing over some of their more memorable activities, of course.

How she’s driven there and back whenever she could find the time, whenever she could manage to get away for a day or two.

So Oliver sat. And Oliver listened. A quiet kindness in his eyes, around his mouth.

“Gail,” he said when all was told, when Gail had poured out her heart to him, “are you sure about this? It’s a big responsibility, a huge decision.”

“I know,” she nodded, “trust me, Ollie, I know. But–”

And something Oliver had only rarely seen on her blossomed across Gail’s pale features. Happiness. Contentment.

Love.

“–but I love her. I do, Oliver. I never stopped. So whatever happens, I’m going to be there. I’m going to be the one who’s there.”

And maybe there was the slightest part of him that worried for her. What would happen to her if things didn’t work out like she wanted.

But he’d been around for the first time. He’d seen the two of them together.

He had faith that things would work out in the end.

Love conquers all kinds of odds, after all.

~

_“There we go,” the tech said, holding the wand still just over her belly button, “there’s your baby. Fetal development looks good, right on track. A little small, but nothing to be worried about. The correct number of fingers and toes ….”_

_He went on, giving her measurements and pointing out organs, and while the doctor in Holly recognized the words and understood what they meant, the mother couldn’t quite pull her attention away from the blurry form on the screen to focus on his voice._

_There it was, her baby. Swimming, safe and sound, just inside her belly._

_She watched the tiny movements, saw the sweet curve of the baby’s head, the long and delicate fingers._

_Never in her life had she ever loved anything more._

_“Do you want to know the sex,” the tech asked again, clearly used to parents lost in their tiny wondrous worlds._

_“No,” Holly whispered, “no.”_

_She’d thought about it, weighed the pros and cons. But in the end, with all the other tests necessitated by her age, she’d decided to let this one thing remain a mystery._

_“Okay, I’m going to get you a copy of the tape,” the tech told her, “and then the doctor will be in soon to go over some preventative care options with you. Do you want a couple of printouts? I got a pretty good shot of the baby’s face.”_

_Later, at home, Holly pinned up a copy of the sonogram to her fridge. Another got taped to her computer monitor at work. A few more were mailed out–her parents, her siblings, her college roommate._

_But one copy remained. Tucked into the top drawer of the table next to her bed._

_In her heart, it belonged to Gail._

~

The baby was so impossibly light in her arms, just a tiny bundle of snuffling breaths wrapped in velvety soft blankets.

His hair stood straight up, this little black mohawk of fine, fine fuzz, and he clutched tightly at her pinky with his long, thin fingers.

“Hey, there, kid,” Gail whispered as she lifted him up to take in his clean, new scent, to let the tips of his hair tickle at her nose. “You’re pretty lucky, you know that?”

She looked over to the sleeping woman in the bed next to them. Holly looked exhausted, even in sleep, her face pale and drawn and pained. She lay on her side, the palm of one hand tucked just under her chin, the other just beside it, IV carefully taped down on her skin.

“You’ve got a great mom. She’s smart and she’s funny and she loves you so much, little guy.” He blinked up at her with sleepy eyes of dark, muddy blue, and she smiled down at him, brushed her lips across his forehead.

“She’s probably going to embarrass you tons when you’re older, because she’s a major dork,” Gail continued, “but don’t you worry too much about it. I’ve got your back. I’ll always have your back, Isaac. And I’ll teach you how to be cool, and when she gets super nerdy, I’ll distract her and let you escape.”

Gently, gently, she rocked him in the soft, comfy chair, watching as his face slowly relaxes, cataloguing the way he yawns with his whole body, just like his mother. Memorizing how his forehead crinkles in the exact same place as Holly’s, how the shape of his eyes are just the same as hers.

He was only four hours old, and already she knew she’d spend the rest of her life completely, head over heels, in love with him.

“I’m going to tell you a secret, Ike,” she whispered so softly, smiling down on his sweet, innocent face. “I’m in love with your mom. I love her with everything I am, every piece of her. You. I’m going to love the both of you forever, as much as you’ll let me, and probably more. And one day, I hope she falls in love with me again too, I hope you love me too. But it’s okay if that doesn’t happen. Because I’ll still be there for you guys, for you and your mom.”

She kissed him again, this time on his soft, precious cheek, and continued to rock. Waiting for Holly to wake up.

Waiting for the rest of her life to begin.


	6. Chapter 6

_Life with a newborn wasn’t easy._

_They found that out pretty quickly._

_Holly didn’t quite bounce back to her pre-baby self like she’d expected, or like all the books told her she would._

_First, there were a few complications from the unexpected C-section that kept her in the hospital a full three days after Isaac was discharged. An infection along the site of the incision, a fever, among other things._

_Those first nights, Gail barely slept a wink. Hour after hour she sat on Holly’s bed, Isaac safe and sleeping in his carrier, and watched his chest as it rose and fell._

_And even though things were better when Holly finally came home, they still weren’t easy. There was a boy who cried and screamed at all hours of the day, a mother with breasts that ached and swelled and leaked. Who cried from the pain and the frustration of trying to get her son to latch on and finally eat. Who needed help getting out of bed, taking a shower, going down the stairs, as the painful incision on her abdomen stretched and itched and healed._

_Then there was the exhaustion. And not just Holly’s, because Gail was there for every cry, every feeding, every diaper change and change of clothes. She was the one running out to the store, bringing loads of laundry up the stairs, slipping out of bed at two in the morning to hold Isaac up to her chest and let him settle to the sound of her heart as she swayed back and forth in the dark nursery._

_“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Holly whispered into the blonde’s shoulder one night after Gail slipped back into bed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when you go back to work.”_

_Gail snuggled deeper into the covers, into Holly’s warmth, and gently threw an arm over the other woman’s hip, careful of the still-healing wound there._

_“I was thinking about that,” she said quietly into the dark between them. “Why don’t you come with me. For the last two months until my transfer kicks in. You’ll have me around more, instead of just the weekends. And I can pack up my things, get them all ready to move.”_

_Gail was used to tears now, used to Holly’s tears and Ike’s tears and even, sometimes, her own._

_But these tears were different._

_These tears were happy; grateful too, yes, but mostly just happy._

_“That sounds really good,” Holly whispered in the spaces between her tears, and Gail didn’t say anything after. Just held the brunette close and let the quiet lull them both to sleep._

~ * ~

Motherhood didn’t necessarily get easier back in Toronto, but it felt like it did. Maybe they just fell into the routine of it, or maybe they were finally figuring it all out.

Or maybe it was that the anticipation of being apart was no longer hanging over them. The fear of being along with the baby, the anxiety of being away for more than an hour or two at a time.

It certainly helped that their circle of friends and family in Toronto was rather large. Gail’s home became a frequent location for impromptu “Meet Ike” get-togethers, and even though she grumbled about the ever-growing pile of presents in the corner of the living room–“I’m going to have to rent a bigger truck, Holly”–she didn’t hate it. The life and warmth of her home lately now that Holly and her son were there with her.

~ * ~

_Elaine stopped by one Saturday afternoon, just as Gail went to retrieve a crying Isaac from the folding crib they’d set up in her bedroom._

_“Holly, do you mind if I call you ‘Holly’?” Elaine asked, stepping into the small hallway. “I think now that we’re in the family way, it’s more appropriate than 'Dr. Stewart.’”_

_And seeing the slightly stricken look on Holly’s face, Gail’s mother laughed._

_“Mom,” Gail said cautiously, stepping into the room with a whimpering Ike cradled carefully in her arms, “what’s going on?”_

_“You never invited me over to meet my grandson,” Elaine answered, shrugging out of her coat and moving deeper into the living room._

_“Mom, I’m not–” Gail started to tell her, shifting Isaac to her other arm, “Ike’s not–”_

_But Holly interrupted her, stepping over to the blonde’s side and laying a warm hand on Gail’s arm._

_“No, Gail,” Holly said softly, “you are. She’s right.”_

_She leaned in to kiss the blonde’s cheek, her lips._

_“Go introduce our son to your mother,” she whispered, and watched the smile that bloomed across her lover’s–her partner’s–face._

_“Mom,” Gail said, lowering Isaac into Elaine’s outstretched arms, “this is–this is your grandson, Isaac Griffin Stewart.” And though her voice was thick with emotion, her eyes were clear. Warm and perfectly blue, so full of love._

~ * ~

The party was kind of multi-purpose; a “this is the shit we’re not moving-take it if you want it,” get rid of the last of the liquor, say goodbye to everyone kind of shindig. The music was just loud enough to annoy a neighbor or two, and the drinks were strong. But Holly was wearing those jeans that clung to every curve, that hugged her ass just perfect, and Gail was having a great time watching her move and sway and dance through the nearly bare rooms of the house.

Over in the corner her mother was talking to Chloe, her brother was wrestling with Nick for a set of bookshelves, and Rachel was trading drinks with Andy over by the front window.

It was kind of perfect, this night, these people. She almost felt a little sad that it was probably the last time they’d all be in the same room, all be together at the same time.

But Holly brushed past her, just the slightest bit buzzed on a glass of wine–her first in almost a year–and Gail felt those strong, gorgeous fingers linger just a second longer than necessary over her ass. And instantly, the sadness was gone.

Because this was her future. This woman, the boy being passed carefully around the room, honorary aunts and uncles eager to hold him, to make him smile.

“Hey,” Gail said, catching the brunette’s arm and pulling her back for a moment, “I love you.”

And Holly smiled that crooked smile, and leaned in to press a quick, deep kiss on her lips.

“I know,” she said. And Gail laughed.

She watched everyone for a few more minutes, content to soak it all in, and didn’t hear Oliver come up to stand next to her until he spoke.

“I want to tell you, Gail,” he said quietly, friendly and paternal, “I’m so proud of you.” There was more there, brimming under the words, but he couldn’t seem to form the words. But she didn’t need to hear them. She could see them in his eyes. She knew what he couldn’t say.

“You helped a lot, Ollie,” she whispered back, watching as Chris lifted her son into the air, airplane-style, “I don’t know if I’d be here without you.”

But he shook his head. “Nah,” he answered, “you’re pretty smart, Peck. I might have given you a push, but you did all the hard work on your own.”

And it hit her then, in that moment.

“You knew,” she accused, a little louder than she intended. “You knew Holly was the one requesting the files!”

He just laughed and clapped her on the back.

“Welcome to parenthood, kid,” he said with a grin. “I hope your kid doesn’t give you as much trouble as your bunch gave me.”

And she’d have responded in kind if Dov hadn’t rushed over with Isaac in his outstretched hands.

“Gail, your kid just puked all over me,” he said, almost hysterical.

“Yeah,” she answered, fitting Isaac securely into the crook of her arm, pleased at how he snuggled into her so naturally, “I taught him that.”

“Good job,” she whispered to her son, giving him a tiny little fist bump, “next time, let’s get Uncle Steve, okay?”

And if his gurgle and squeal were anything to go by, Isaac was definitely in on his mother’s scheme.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Lullaby" by the Dixie Chicks


End file.
